Cinderella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh?
by pyrrhicvictoly
Summary: Three princes, a ball, and an uncommonly large - but absolutely fabulous - rhinestone-studded glass slipper. Crack AU.
1. If You've Got It, Flaunt It

_**A/N:** WTF why does this thing exist? Hell if I know. I just wanted to do more with Josak because he's freakin' awesome. I've been meaning to write tons more Josak, but just... never got around to it, I guess. Well, okay, so it was supposed to be all about Josak, but I'm starting to think that I don't know how to write fics with Conrad in them and not poke at him all the time. (Because let's face it - the man is hilarious.) Anyway, don't expect much on the pairings front. It's just lots and lots of inappropriate poking._

_C&C always appreciated. Happy reading~! (Mwahahaha!)_

* * *

><p>Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a sweet young boy and his frail mother. In her youth, the mother had been an herbalist's apprentice, and it had been as she was gathering medicinal plants on the mountainside one day that she met her destiny.<p>

Destiny, however, was neither a charming prince nor knight in shining armor. Destiny was a wounded deserter; an enemy soldier.

She said to herself as she treated his wounds that they would have nothing to do with each other once he was well enough to leave. He was a man of the Demon Tribe, and they ate souls and polished their swords with human blood. Or so she had heard.

But he had the most endearing crooked smile, and they fell in love nonetheless. She graduated from apprentice to journeyman and set up a hut for herself on the side of the mountain where they lived together, her handsome Demon soldier hiding in the cellar when patients came to call. Seasons turned and returned; it was a blissful time. They had a beautiful child with his mother's blue eyes and his father's charming smile, and all was well until word of their unholy union reached the nearby village.

They came up the dirt path with torches, slings, and arrows. Knowing what had come to pass, the ex-soldier took up arms and charged down to distract the mob, only lingering long enough to claim one last kiss from the healer who mended his body... and the woman who mended his heart.

And so the boy's mother risked life and limb to help her son escape a life of hardship and persecution, all the while weeping for her love's brave sacrifice. Before the guards could come knocking down her door, she stole away in the middle of the night, carrying with her only the clothes on her back and her small son.

As with any mother, she wished for her child only the very best life, and she apologized to him every step of the way as they slowly marched across the mountainous border. No sane human would willing step foot in the land of Demons, but it didn't matter if she was unwelcome. She dreamed of a land that would welcome her son.

It was a beautiful dream, and it persisted through all the hardships presented to her in the months ahead. She held onto hope even as she accepted back-breaking work for nothing but room and board and table scraps.

When she passed, her only request was for her master to care for her son - if not as his own child, then at least as a companion for his own children. And here is where our story begins...

* * *

><p>Josak didn't exactly have a good childhood. It was pretty damn shitty, to be honest. When his mother passed away, he was left in the tender care of her employer, who, while seemingly friendly on the outside, was actually quite fond of child labor and also very good at getting around child labor laws.<p>

There were also the spoiled daughters, of course, and oh were they spoiled. Once they discovered Josak's flair for fashion designing, it was "sew this" and "sew that" until he was up to his neck in lace ruffles and practically swimming in sexy sequined halter tops, none of which they would let him wear himself. Every day it was, "Oh. My. _Gawd._ Josak, where are my new petticoats? Go get them now!"

And so the lovely manservant, pure of heart, waited and waited because one day his prince would come. The most he could do was sneak out to see the prince; maybe dance with him a little before fleeing into the night. That was what the stories said, anyway... Mostly, it was the waiting and being pure bits that led to happily ever after.

Ah, fuck the stories! His prince wasn't going to come to him, not all the way out to the shitty boondocks. It was up to Josak to reel in his own happy ending, and if the only way to get there was by beating destiny into submission, then he would do so. What else were his muscles for, after all?

One day, when the old man lashed his bull whip one too many times, Josak caught it around his arm and just... _flexed_ until his bulging of his biceps snapped the thing clean apart. And then it was "Oh, oh Shinou save me! Get out of here, monster!" and Josak was freed.

"Hey, can I have some cash? I was thinking of heading to the capital since I'm about the right age to enter the military academy... And I was also thinking that it might be about time you paid me for the, oh, half a century of indentured servitude."

"Take it, take it! Just don't rape my daughters!"

"Whoa, old man... I thought you knew by now that I don't swing that way."

"PLEASE DON'T RAPE ME!" There was silence after the old man's plea, though it was intermittently broken by a few muffled sobbing hics.

Josak slowly reached for the bag of coin and scooted back so as not to frighten the man any longer. Before he was gone, however, a spark of mischief caught hold, and it was with a teasing wink that Josak blew his rotten ex-slave-driver a big, flirty smooch. Mwah~!

He met a prince far sooner than he would have thought.

Two days after his acceptance into the military academy, Josak wandered out to the courtyard for some fresh air, only to see that a group of students had formed a ring around two combatants. It was Josak's favorite teacher, Lord Gunter von Kleist, versus... some other dude. There wasn't much about that guy that stood out besides his very pissy expression, though Josak had to admit that he was rather handsome. He had a bad-boy air to him, which was attractive if one was into that.

Josak lightly elbowed the girl next to him. "Hey, who's that guy?"

"You don't _know_?" she hissed. "That's _only_ Conrart Weller, the strongest student in the entire school and second-"

"Whoo! Kick his ass, Instructor GunGun-sama!"

Instructor GunGun-sama proceeded to do just that.

Later on, after Josak had collected his winnings, he vaguely wondered what the girl had been about to say. Second... what? Second place in the Shin Makoku All-Star Youth Spelling Bee? The thought of someone with that sort of dour expression stepping out in front of a crowd and saying, "Pugnacious. P-U-G-N-A-C-I-O-U-S. Pugnacious," was almost enough to make Josak titter like the little girl he was inside.

The next day, he spotted what's-his-name leaning against the outer wall of the boys' dorm. His arms were crossed, and he glared at Josak like a gang leader looking for trouble. He even had a posse composed entirely of sullen looking students who had perfected the art of teenage ennui. They narrowed their eyes challengingly at the newcomer.

Josak wasn't weak by any means. Most people tended not to want to mess with him, if only because he looked like he could snap their necks bare-handed. Granted, he'd never _tried_, but it probably wasn't too far from the truth. So it was with this in mind that he thought, "Ah, these fucking cowards are gonna gang up on me."

What he said, however, was, "Nice weather today, huh?"

Their broody head honcho slowly pushed off from the wall. At his approach, Josak stiffened and prepared for possible combat.

"You're a new student. I just noticed you yesterday."

_No shit, Sherlock._

"You're one of us."

_...Bwuh? Yes, I see you've finally noticed that we're wearing the same uniform._ What's-his-name Weller continued on, completely unfazed by Josak's impressive jawdrop.

"If you're set on keeping it a secret, just don't let them catch you alone once they start having suspicions about you."

"Er... What about me?"

"About... how you were born this way."

Josak's lucky dress was tucked safely away at the bottom of his bag of meager possessions. He doubted his roommate would want to rummage around in there, but if it came to that, he was sure that he could pass it off as a joke, like something from a costume party. Or a sob story, like the only memento he had left of his equally large twin sister.

He was about to say that he had everything under control, but there was this one niggling thought...

"So, wait a minute, um, C-"

"Conrad."

"Right. So, Conrad... You too?"

"Yes."

"We've got _that_ in common."

Conrad nodded his assent, at which Josak pictured him in an elegant silk taffeta ensemble with lace trim and eye-catching statement jewelry. None of this wretched teal military uniform stuff! Deep blue was definitely his color. He would look gorgeous in it, especially with a demure smile.

Josak was about to ask if he could take measurements just in case of future opportunity, but was interrupted before he could.

The boy at Weller's left, who had been slouched in a position that looked very bad for his back, straightened up and tossed his hair from his face. It promptly flopped back, covering one eye and casting deep shadows onto his impassive features. "He means," the boy spoke lowly, "our human blood."

"Oh. _Oh_, you were talking about _that_." Whoops. Josak chided himself for not having seen this coming. After all, there were too many brown-haired, brown-eyed students here for Weller's clique to be anything other than the punk-ass human outcasts. Ha! To think for a moment that they could all have been budding fashionistas like himself...

"Yeah, man. No one will mess with you if you tell them you're with us, 'cuz we've got Conrad. None of those pureblood assholes can even land a hit on him. Well, except Instructor GunGun-sama."

Conrad threw his minion a _look_. His minion hunched back in on himself, melting into the shadows of the wall from whence he had risen.

Then he rose again, like a vampire that didn't know it was supposed to stay down after getting hosed down with holy water, three stakes pierced straight through the heart, and decapitated with a garlic-rubbed katana made of pure silver in broad daylight.

"Conrad's also, like, a prince and stuff. For serious. It's okay to mooch off of him - he's loaded."

_Prince_ Conrad's eyes glinted in a very pissed off manner. He turned to his disobedient minion and said, "Geoffrey, you're taking Ryan's place as my sparring partner for today."

Ryan gasped. He looked up. His plain brown eyes lit up with plain brown joy at the prospect of making it through the day without getting his ass thoroughly kicked. Josak noted that Ryan was remarkably good at being brown, as was everyone else in the immediate vicinity. He briefly wondered if his own bright and fruity locks would darken if he spent time with them. Was the brown contagious?

But then Conrad smiled as well, and it was a wretched smile. It was as wretched as an angry lion with blood smeared all over its toothy maw. With a practiced flip, Geoffrey hid behind his hair just a little bit more.

Josak's eyebrows rose as he watched the scene with amusement. "So," he said. "I can hang with you guys? And put my drinks on the royal tab? Sweetness."

* * *

><p>Their friendship blossomed, delicately sweet as the first blush of spring upon the land. And soon, they were in love...<p>

Or not.

Josak had had high hopes for Conrad after finding out about the prince thing, but he soon found out that Conrad wasn't exactly boyfriend material. For one, he was pining over an unrequited love. And two, his sense of humor was wretched. This was, as far as Josak could tell, the main reason why he was always so angry - because if he joked, it gave people ulcers.

Their other friends were either straight, or not quite to Josak's tastes. Like Geoffrey, whose hair-flipping and blood-sucker aesthetics were a major turn-off that not even his nice bubble butt could make up for. There was also Ryan, who was cute until you found out that he had a thing for big bear daddies. Literally. As in sand bears. The furry kind with the claws and teeth and underground burrows.

The rest of the student body was out of the question once they noticed he had started hanging with the halfies. The fabulous Josak was having no luck with love. He pouted at Conrad one day and said, "You suck at being my Prince Charming, you know that?"

Conrad just shrugged and said, "I never applied for that position," and continued sharpening his sword.

Presently, Conrad was leaning against a tree trunk outside their dorm, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Some people thought this was scary, like babies and stuff. Conrad was always making babies cry at a glance, but Josak didn't think this look was scary at all. It sort of lost its impact once one got used to it. It was too bad that the prince didn't have the kind of face that could really make scowling work, Josak thought, so rather then being menacing, he now appeared to Josak to be more like a pouty kid who was giving his parents the silent treatment because they wouldn't let him get a lip piercing.

"Yo, Conrad, 'sup? You being emo again?"

He received a scoff-and-eyebrow-raise combo in response. Ah, body language... One of Josak's greatest assets (besides his heavenly biceps) was his observational ability, especially being able to interpret what wasn't being said.

Case in point, Conrad had actually meant, "Why the fuck do you care? Get off my case, man. But just so you know, I totally have the right to be emo, okay? I'm, like, supposed to be the resident bad boy here. You know, the one that the girls can't resist? And yet Julia actually dumped me for that musclebound bastard. I mean, what the fuck? I loved her! And he has a really nasty double chin! My life sucks. Everyone hates me and my dad is dead. And then my little brother spit in my drink, and my mom just had to go embarrass me in front of the whole town by making me go shopping with her and hanging off my arm the whole time. Pretending I was her boy-toy! She even giggled and half-molested me when someone asked if we were going out! Jeez, mom, is it so hard to tuck your boobs back in? I hate my family. I hate my life. I hate the unresolved sexual tension I have with Instructor GunGun-sama, and how he keeps saying that my sword is too inexperienced to win against him. God, I need to get drunk."

Josak briefly considered leaving Conrad's broody emo ass behind, but then he thought about it some more and decided that it wasn't such a good idea to lose a friend over something like this, especially since friendly faces were in short supply for those with human blood, and especially since he owed a lot to Conrad. And besides, one could never have too much ale.

"Hey. Wanna go grab a pint?" Josak asked.

Conrad's other eyebrow rose up in surprise even as he gingerly nodded.

Why yes, Josak thought, his mind reading was indeed impressive. His smugness about the situation lasted throughout their walk to the bar, and then grew into tipsy smugness.

Conrad was much easier to talk to after the liberal application of alcohol. It was a fine balance, though, between a loosened tongue and death threats. This line lay somewhere around the sixth pint, after which he had been known to promise a swift end to anyone who made blind jokes about his ex-girlfriend. He would also attempt to go through with this, though more often than not it involved a lot of stumbling and furniture being cleaved in half.

Usually this "someone" who had to dodge Conrad's drunken martial arts was Josak, and it was a good thing that Conrad usually forgot about his escapades the next day, or Josak would end up as the prince's designated sparring partner for all time. "Sparring partner" meant, of course, "pincushion". Because Conrad had a lot of unresolved anger/sexuality/mommy issues, which he channeled into an unhealthy love of smoldering at people and stabbing things with his sword.

"You really need to get over her." Josak's eyes followed the bobbing of his friend's Adam's apple as he chugged down the fifth pint.

"Mmph," Conrad eloquently replied.

"Seriously. She's like, what, fifty years older than you?"

"...Sixty-five, but in Mazoku years."

"So she's about thirteen years older than you in human years."

"..."

"Give it up, man. No one wants to feel like they're dating their own son. Um, except your mother."

"Don't talk about my mother!" Conrad's fist slammed down on the cheap alehouse table.

"Okay, okay, nothing about your mother. Why don't we talk about the queen instead?"

Conrad paused for a moment, scrunching his brows as if deep in thought. "...Yes, that's fine." He groped around for another drink, but Josak expertly switched the last glass with water and motioned to the serving wench not to bring them any more. With an unbalanced shrug, Conrad gulped down the water instead.

"Right, so... I hear she's holding a ball soon."

"I hate balls."

"Tch. That's such a waste, man! You have access to all these balls, but you say you don't _like _them? Meanwhile, here I am, not gettin' any lovin' at all..."

"Balls are..." Conrad gestured unsteadily, trying and failing to find the words in his drunken state. "Balls are... fluffy."

"You mean furry? Ryan would like that, wouldn't he. You should invite him."

"Huh?"

Josak snickered at Conrad's confusion, which only confused him even more. He stared into his glass of water and mouthed "Furry balls?" to himself.

"Ahem. What I meant was, can you sneak me in? I'll go all out and do the total diva thing. It'll be a blast, I swear."

"If you were there, I... perhaps... I could come to like balls..."

Aww~ Josak thought it was adowwable that the academy's resident badass was so slow on the uptake when he was sloshed. And he was so sweet, too, proclaiming his feelings of epic bromance for all to hear. Josak was tempted to give Conrad's "sword" some more "experience" in preparation for the next "duel" he had with their beautiful instructor... Why, if it wasn't one of those things that friends just don't do to each other, Josak would have taken him upstairs right now and done the nasty.

"Well, then. I should crash that party."

A slow smile spread over Conrad's face. "You should crash that party."

"Hell to the yeah."

They cemented their plan with the sign of the unbreakable vow: the bro-fist.


	2. Screw the Rules

Josak now spent his days in a flurry of motion. He had been locked up by his evil stepsisters, but luckily he was so beautiful and pure that he made little animal friends who helped bring scraps of ribbon and thread for his homely in-progress dress.

...Or, actually, he spent most of his time in the school's detention dungeon for "accidentally" body-slamming this one douchebag who kept making inappropriate passes at the mixed race girls while Conrad wasn't around. Repeatedly. And until his opponent passed out. And then a few times after that just for good measure. And then he threw in an accidental suplex for extra good measure.

Instructor GunGun-sama was understandably upset over this type of conduct from one of his more promising students, and he gave Josak two hours in the detention dungeon every day after classes. For three whole weeks! This was shitty because not only did he have to sit in the gloom and doom and write tons of extra essays about things like how to properly disarm an opponent/why it's not okay to body-slam your fellow classmates so badly that they wind up in the hospital, but also because he had to look at Instructor GunGun-sama's SadFace for hours on end.

Also, that one time he got Conrad to sneak him a beer during class (because he hadn't had one for _ages_), Instructor GunGun-sama had caught them and his SadFace had grown exponentially sadder at the knowledge of what his precious students got up to these days with their underage drinking and whatnot. It got sad to the point where even Conrad was twitching and frowning and... possibly even _blushing _because of the incomparable melancholic beauty of their teacher. (Let it be known that Instructor GunGun-sama had an incredibly expressive SadFace; one that could even be considered "epic".) Then Conrad had growled and stomped off, mumbling something about how he had to train some more so that he could beat the SadFace off of Instructor GunGun-sama.

But much as Josak hated disappointing his favorite teacher, he still had to admit that the body-slamming was oh so satisfying and totally worth it. As an added bonus, he now had a place from which to work his nefarious dress-making plans. All it took was a little puppy-eyed begging, and the detention dungeon was now the secret base of Operation Tranarchy.

"Please, sir, Conrad and I need to use the dungeon to carve shit out of blocks of wood. It's his special hobby and he promised to teach me. Um, we've got really big, impressive pieces of wood that we'll be using. It'll make quite a mess, so we can't use any of the regular classrooms, and we want to keep our activities a secret for now. The world's just not ready to see the beautiful things we're making..." Josak had said.

Conrad was dense as a brick and didn't get the innuendo. Instructor GunGun-sama was also denser than a rock-hard fruitcake, but cocked his head to the side in confusion. However, when he saw that Conrad did not object to Josak's story, he gingerly nodded. After all, it was known to all the students that Instructor GunGun-sama could never refuse a request if it had something to do with sharp objects hacking other objects. He really, really liked swords to an unhealthy extent, and thus approved of Conrad's passion for slicing shit up and teaching other people how to slice shit up. Because it was this sort of passion that led him to become a teacher in the first place.

Josak figured that they were both sexually repressed, but that was another story...

It was nighttime now, and Josak was alone in his base of operation. As soon as Instructor GunGun-sama left, Josak pulled his hidden sewing machine out from under the floorboard and set to work.

Josak's cackling was only slightly maniacal as he sewed on the finishing touches to his very pink masterpiece. It was true that pink clashed horribly with his hair, but this was no beauty pageant he would be attending, and he was confident in his ability to out-diva any princesses who tried to get in the way of his fabulousity. Pink was the best choice for making a statement in times like these... It was also the best color for a very large man to use when genderfucking with people's minds.

The sewing machine whirred along the hem of the dress, putting skillful bits of ruching here and there. As he continued to work, Josak wondered if the bows and frilly bits he'd put on so far were enough, or if he should add MOAR BLING, MOAR GLITTER, MOAR SPARKLZ. It's often said that diamonds are a girl's best friend - should not a girl's best friend give her diamonds?

"Note to self: get Conrad to buy me sparklies."

As soon as he muttered this, the door to his secret lair opened, and Conrad appeared with a sack full of goodies.

"Oh, hey, speak of the devil! More materials?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get the shoes?"

"Not the ones you wanted. The shoemaker refused to make any of your designs when I gave him your size."

"What? Aw, come on, that's discrimination!"

Conrad grunted his assent. He then glanced down at the sword at his side. "He wouldn't do it no matter how much I asked."

By "asked", Josak assumed Conrad meant "threatened".

"Eh... you didn't kill him, did you?"

"No, he's fine."

"Really."

"Yes, physically speaking."

Conrad clammed up again, and Josak was left to infer that the... _request process_... that the man went through was enough to make him break down into a sobbing useless mess.

"Well, ah, that's too bad then," Josak said, scratching the back of his head. "But you did find some shoes, right?"

Conrad nodded and loosened the tie on the cloth bag. He reached inside and pulled out something so abso-sparkle-marvel-fantaboulousy fierce that it took Josak's breath away.

"Conrad! You brought me sparklies!" he gushed.

Conrad's silently expressive reply said that he thought this had gone far beyond the reasonable limit of sacrificing comfort for fashion's sake. No matter how awesome or blingy they were, 6-inch stiletto heels made of glass would be hell to walk in, and if one were to get a blister, it would immediately be visible to everyone, as would the bloody smear if that blister were to break open.

Josak remained unfazed by the waves of "Are you sure you want to do this? How about we try to find you some sensible unisex boots?" logic that Conrad telepathically beamed at him. Logic? Pah! He countered logic with a Passion for Fashion. "How did you get these?" he asked.

"The shoemaker was out of commission, so I went to the glassblower. He thought they were extra pieces for some strange avant-garde statuary my mother is having installed in the west gardens." Conrad shrugged and handed them over.

"It's so lovely~! It's like you're my very own Fairy God-bro!"

Indeed, Conrad was the only Fairy God-something in all the land who had no magical abilities whatsoever. It was okay, though, because he was a prince, and princes can screw the rules because they have money.


	3. Pretty in Pink

Josak looked himself over in front of the mirror, and he was a _gorgeous_ vision like a little pink-frosted cupcake on top of a large slab of beef covered with more pink frosting and sprinkles and cotton candy swirls. He flexed his biceps a little and noted how they stood out even more now that he was wearing heels.

"That's hot," he said to the glorious vision in the mirror. Behind him, Conrad cleared his throat.

"Our carriage will be here soon. The driver has been instructed to drop us off at the side entrance. Just follow me until we get to the ballroom."

"Can I have free reign after that?"

Conrad appeared to be having spasms in his sword arm, but nodded anyway.

They made their way out of the detention dungeon and up into the mysterious shroud of night.

* * *

><p>The mysterious shroud of night would have been much more mysterious if it hadn't been punctuated with the occasional sound of drunken retching as their carriage rolled through town. If there was one thing to be said about Her Majesty the Queen, it was that she knew how to throw a party; so much so that booze literally flowed down the streets at times, making for some very interesting trips to the market.<p>

Tonight was not one of those nights. It was, however, boozed-up enough to produce a ralphing symphony in the lower town. Josak sighed and regretted his decision to arrive fashionably late. This was so not fabulous. He could only hope the castle party-goers were sober enough to appreciate his entrance.

As the carriage pulled up to the castle's side entrance, Conrad tensed up like he was marching off to war. Josak elbowed him in the side.

"Relax, man. I've got this."

Diva face: on.

Showtime.

That night, all eyes were glued to Lord Weller and his companion as they strode into the ballroom. The prince was impeccably dressed. However, it was the lady on his arm that stole the show. Her dress shimmered and flashed in the light. Also, her muscular arm dwarfed Lord Weller's.

There were gasps all around, and many nobles' eyes popped out of their skulls. Not literally, for that would have made a mess on the floor and would have been so un-fabulous. Lady Cecilie's parties were_never_ not-fabulous! They did, however, pop out enough to be cause for concern.

Josak turned to a man who had frozen in place upon their entrance. "Hey, baby," he said, moving to stroke his finger down the man's chest. "I love your tie."

The man fell over in a dead faint.

Josak gasped in mock-indignation. "Well _excuse me_! Can you believe the nerve of this guy? I've never been so insulted! Isn't that right, Conrad." But Conrad did not respond. "Conrad! Hey, Conrad!"

Conrad's hands were shaking; the wine glass held in his left began to crack. He was beaming eye-lasers across the room at a happy couple. Upon examination, Josak noticed the man's double chin and knew that there was trouble brewing.

"Ooookay. I'll just leave you to your pissing contest, then. Don't wait up on me."

Josak scurried - well, not scurried - _glided elegantly_ across the room.

Then there was a fireball, and a chandelier burst into flame. Josak was beginning to think that he wasn't needed; the party had always been destined to go on a rocket slide to hell. Miraculously, guests on the other side of the ballroom, where Conrad was, continued to dance, oblivious to the rogue mage in their midst. Josak knew this because he shot a quick glance in that direction and found, quite worryingly, that Conrad had done nothing but glared hate lasers at Chinzilla for the better part of ten minutes.

Then Josak turned toward the source of the maryoku, as did many others who were not screaming, and found it to be a little blond bratling whose cheeks were so red with anger it was like he was a steamed lobster come back from the grave to exact vengeance on the kitchen staff.

Said bratling had his arms around another man in a chokehold and was proceeding to squeeze the life right out of him.

"Whoa there, little guy." Josak laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think he's turning blue."

"How dare you speak to a prince in this way, you… halfbreed!" said the brat. He did, however, let go of his original target, who crawled away hacking and gasping for air.

Josak brought his hands up in the universal symbol for I-don't-know-what's-going-on-but-I-swear-it-wasn't -me. He had no idea how the littlest prince even knew what he was, but perhaps it was some sort of maryoku thing, like he could sniff out human blood or something.

This was the second prince that Josak had met, and it was far from being a pleasure. Conrad's little brother really was every bit as fantastically racist as Conrad often lamented. But Josak, being the easy-going guy that he was, shrugged it off in favor of looking for more fun, more things he could infect with the ridiculous amount of rainbow fabulousness he'd brought with him.

* * *

><p>Josak's rendition of the can-can was a rousing success, inspiring cheers and jeers from what seemed to be the entire ballroom. In between his equally successful can't-can't and his specialty, the don't-know-if-can, Josak worriedly glanced out a window in search of Conrad, who had gone missing.<p>

He caught a peek at the clash of swords between Conrad and his rival in love. Not exactly the best situation, but it wasn't so dire at the moment that Josak would feel the need to rush out to intervene until after his high-kicking dance finale was complete.

"Thank you, thank you!" He bowed, roses landing neatly at his feet, then slipped into the shadows and out to other parts of the castle.

He'd seen Conrad out in one of the gardens, but how to get there? Josak whipped his head back and forth, trying to map out the castle in his mind. It was so big as to be like a maze, and he didn't know how to get anywhere except back to the main entrance, and that only vaguely.

In a few minutes, Josak discovered that the most frustrating thing was that he seemed to be heading up higher and higher and yet there were _no stairs down_. Who designed this castle? He was so lost that he'd resorted to following the rightmost wall in hopes that it would lead him back to where he came. He'd accidentally gone up a tower and was just now finding his way back down. Once in a while, he would peer out a window, and occasionally that window would show him glimpses of a moonlit duel.

The next window he came across was also a Conrad one, so Josak figured he was at least headed in the right direction. But wait! There, a flash of silver hair, glinting dramatically in the moonlight! It was Instructor GunGun-sama, come to break up the fight? Oh, the drama! Why couldn't Josak have been down there?

It was as Josak was cursing his bad luck that he heard a soft mew. There, in a darkened corridor, was a tiny kitten. It toddled unsteadily across the stone floor.

"Huh. Guess it's just you and me, little guy." Josak plucked the kitten off the ground and settled it into his fake-cleavage before returning to watch the events unfold.

Chinzilla fell to the ground and coughed up blood. (Go Conrad!)

A harsh whisper echoed down the halls. "Here, kitty kitty kitty~ Here kitty~"

"I think someone's looking for you," Josak said to his bosom-buddy.

Julia bitch-slapped Conrad.

Footsteps rounded the corner and stopped. There was a tall man in green standing before Josak. He had a very commanding presence, and he grunted in disapproval.

"Guests shouldn't be in this part of the castle. Wait here and I'll escort you out once my errand is done," he said.

Josak was quite amused at this turn of events, so he said, coyly, "Excuse me, sir, I think I've found your kitten."

The man turned around once more and leveled a glare in Josak's general direction. His forehead was wrinkly and his face was frowny, but overall he cut a dashing figure. Josak reached into his boobs to retrieve the man's kitten.

"My apologies," he said, as the furtively snuggled the kitten. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gwendal von Voltaire."

"Von Voltaire?! As in… _Crown Prince_ von Voltaire?"

Gwendal frowned. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Yes."

"Huh. Wow. Er, I mean, it's an honor to meet you, Your Excellency."

This was the third prince Josak had ever met, and the only one who actually had the bearing of one. Barring kitten-related eccentricities, of course.

"And you?" Gwendal prompted.

"Oh, sorry! Where have my manners gone? I'm Josak Gurrier, a friend of your brother Conrad - I mean, a friend of Lord Weller." He jerked his thumb toward the window where Conrad's drama was unfolding below.

Conrad was making out with Instructor GunGun-sama.

"I see," Gwendal said. To his credit, his eyes only flicked over to Conrad twice.

"That's… That's it? Ah, not to seem ungrateful or anything, but you… So you don't care that I'm, ah, partly human?"

"Why should I? My brother is as well."

Said brother was busy playing tonsil hockey with a man twice his age.

"Yeah, but you hate him, right?"

Josak deeply regretted saying this as soon as it was out of his mouth. When Gwendal heard, his expression turned dour.

"No," Gwendal said, "that's my other brother, and he's just being overly dramatic."

"From what I've seen of him, drama seems right up his alley..." Josak mumbled.

It was also right up Conrad's. Maybe it ran in the family. Conrad was writhing below Instructor GunGun-sama.

Gwendal frowned again, which twisted his face up fiercely. His hands, however, cuddled the kitten closer and started stroking its ears again. Josak thought he was starting to understand this man, and it was not the forehead wrinkles or the glaring that conveyed his true emotions. Rather, it was the kitten cuddling, which, at that moment, was saying that Gwendal was upset that anyone would insinuate that he not love his brothers, even if they did embarrassing things like break chandeliers with fireballs or get naked in the gardens.

"Hn. He also hates wool stockings passionately enough to set them on fire. Wolfram has yet to set Conrart on fire, so I assume that his 'hate' for Conrart is less than his hate for wool stockings."

"The rumors about you were wrong then, huh?"

Rather than answer Josak's inquiry, Gwendal changed the subject in a way that Josak found highly attractive.

"How did you infiltrate the castle's inner quarters in those heels? Do you need a job?"

* * *

><p>With Gwendal's help, Josak finally exited the castle just as the bell chimed midnight. Conrad was waiting for him at the entrance, sporting a split lip and the happiest shit-eating grin he'd ever seen on his friend's face.<p>

"So you're a spy now."

"Yup. Man, Geoffrey's gonna be so jealous once he hears about this!"

There was companionable silence between them for a while, until Josak returned the favor of asking.

"So you lost your girlfriend."

"Yes."

"And you gained a black eye."

"Mm."

"And a boyfriend, too. I guess this is happily ever after."

The two friends rode off into the sunset. The beautiful orange and pink hues shone through the darkening tree line and glinted off Josak's glass heels in their stirrups. They were fabulous, just as Cinderella's new life would be.

He held out his hand for another epic bro-fist.


End file.
